


Raiding The King's Larder

by Charlatron



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Consent is Sexy, F/M, Fluff and Smut, King Alistair (Dragon Age), Sweet Alistair (Dragon Age), The Taint (Dragon Age), Warden Bethany Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 09:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30036747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlatron/pseuds/Charlatron
Summary: During a brief stay over at the royal palace, Bethany gets some much-needed assistance in mastering her taint.
Relationships: Alistair/Bethany Hawke
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11
Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition





	Raiding The King's Larder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WardenAri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WardenAri/gifts).



Everything had happened so quickly after the deep roads. Some of it was still a blur; like trying to peer through a dense fog. The joining had saved her life, that much was true, though she had been forever changed. The dreams were no joke, though Stroud assured her they’d settle without an archdemon about. She felt famished almost constantly, unable to remember a single night she’d managed to avoid getting out of her bedroll to stuff her face. And that wasn’t the only urge she seemed completely unable to satiate. Bethany had barely even had sex, and yet the visceral need to have someone between her thigs _plagued_ her. She was far too embarrassed to ask Stroud if what she was feeling was normal, though she suspected it was.

One thing at a time, she told herself, elbow deep in cured meats and sweet pastries as she tried to assuage her ravenous appetite. It felt strange being back in Ferelden without her family, not least of all because she was currently raiding the king’s larder.

“Well, at least you didn’t find my good cheese yet.”

The stool she’d be sitting on clattered loudly to the floor as she hopped from it, turning to face none other than the king himself. At least he was smiling - very attractively too, her wicked libido added.

"Your majesty, I'm… Stroud said it would be okay if - forgive me, I-I'll just tidy up then get out of your way."

"I remember the midnight cravings.” The king chuckled. “Occasionally still get them from time to time, as you can see."

Bethany watched him from the corner of her eye as he fished out a hidden bell jar and placed it on the table.

"Not even the Orlesian's can beat a good Ferelden cheddar," he claimed as he proudly unveiled his loot, “would you like some?”

"You shouldn't eat cheese before bed,” she automatically responded with one of her mother’s old sayings, “it'll give you nightmares." 

The king huffed. "I'm fairly certain the Archdemon blood has that covered."

"Oh." Beth laughed nervously. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

“It’s Bethany, isn’t it?” he asked, slicing off several large chunks before pushing the plate closer to her. 

_King Alistair knew her name!_

“Yes, that’s right,” she calmly replied, barely resisting the urge to squeal.

“Stroud tells me you came from Kirkwall, but that’s definitely a Ferelden accent I’m hearing.”

“Lothering, actually, yes.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Any mention of Lothering always seemed to garner that reaction from Fereldeners. “So, you’ve been in Kirkwall since the blight?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Thank you for fixing that by the way.”

“Oh, it was just another Tuesday for me," he brushed off her thanks, humorously downplaying his role in saving the world.

Bethany slapped a hand over her mouth in horror at the unladylike snort she produced.

“Well, I think that’s my cue to leave,” she remarked as she fled towards the exit, “goodnight, your majesty.”

“Was nice to meet you, Beth,” he called after her, raising his voice a little louder as he added, “and call me Alistair.”

She ran into him again the following night. Thankfully managed not to embarrass herself - at least nothing beyond being caught staring dreamily into his kind brown eyes. They talked about friends and family, their hobbies and interests. She got the distinct impression he was just as lonely as she was.

On her third and final night in the royal palace, right before she left her room in search of sustenance, Alistair showed up at her door with a picnic basket laden with her favourite treats plus a couple of bottles of pink lemonade.

“I thought I’d bring the larder to you tonight since it’s so cold down there," he'd said.

She’d invited him to join her, of course, which is how they came to be sitting on a rug by the fire, knees almost touching as they easily conversed. It was the most normal she'd felt since before her joining.

"So, is it everything you dreamed it would be?" Alistair asked.

“Meeting the king?”

“No, silly." He playfully nudged her shoulder. "Being a Grey Warden.”

"Oh.” Beth laughed. “To be honest it isn't really something I'd ever thought about before, so..."

"Ah," Alistair understood, "you didn't sign-up by choice."

"No. I had contracted the blight, “ she answered solemnly, “oh, but that doesn't mean I'm not grateful or that I won't devote myself to-"

"Beth, it's alright.” Alistair smiled and gave her knee a reassuring pat. “The hero of Ferelden didn't join by choice either, and look what he accomplished."

_No pressure then._

“So, Stroud tells me you are a mage of no small talent," Alistair kindly changed the subject.

“Does he now?”

“Yep. Said you managed to reattach his leg whilst also fending off an ogre.”

“It was just a scratch!” she loudly exasperated, “and the _ogre_ was in fact a hurlock who I kept at bay with a barrier. Honestly, you boys and your tall tales.”

Alistair was so easy to talk to - easy on the eyes too, but that was definitely an inappropriate thought to be having.

“Thedas to Bethany,” Alistair joked, waving a hand in front of her face, “what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

_Pretty head?_

"Alistair, you said that I could ask you about anything right?” Whether such a statement extended to the topic she had in mind remained to be seen, but nevertheless, she asked the question before she had the chance to talk herself out of it.

Whether it was the tone of her voice or the look on her face that gave her away she wasn’t sure but if the instant blush on Alistair’s cheeks was any indication, he knew exactly what topic she had in mind. 

“After your joining, aside from the hunger, was there anything else you felt... tempted by?”

Alistair cleared his throat a few times before responding. "I _think_ I know what you’re referring to, but I’d rather be sure before I risk potential embarrassment.”

Bethany took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I mean temptations of the… _carnal_ variety."

Alistair gulped. “Yeah, that’s what I thought you were getting at.”

“So it is normal then?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, “though it is my understanding that the intensity varies from person to person.”

“What was it like for you? - if that isn’t too personal a question, of course.”

“Me?" Alistair loosened his collar as though he was having some trouble breathing. "Well, I… got to know myself pretty well those first few months if you know what I mean.”

"Oh," she realised, eyes widening as she tried her very best not to picture such an alluring sight.

“How have you been handling it?” He scratched awkwardly at the back of his head, unable to look her in the eye.

“Honestly?” She gulped. “I’m not sure I’ve ever even had an orgasm let alone how to give myself one.”

“Right.”

“Oh, Maker." Did she really just tell the king she didn't know how to masturbate? "I’m oversharing aren’t I?”

“No, I just… I don’t know what to suggest.”

“Honestly, it’s just nice to know that what I'm feeling is normal, really.”

She held her breath when she felt his touch, glancing discreetly down at the space between them where his palm was resting gently atop her hand. She swallowed nervously as she slowly lifted her gaze, his kind eyes carefully observing her.

“Alistair?” she whispered.

“Beth, I,” he hesitated, “would you mind if I -”

In a moment of madness, Bethany boldly reached for his collar and tugged him into a hard kiss.

“...kissed you?” he finished when their lips eventually parted.

Bethany bit her lip nervously as Alistair stared dreamily at her mouth.

“I should go,” he blurted abruptly, quickly standing and making his way towards the door. 

“Right,” she startled, feeling quite suddenly rejected, “really?”

Alistair hesitated in his escape, one hand on the doorknob.

“Did I do something wrong?” Bethany worried, slowly rising to her feet.

His whole body seemed to expand and deflate as he took a deep breath before turning to face her.

“Nothing at all,” he promised, “and right now there is nothing I would rather do than keep kissing you.”

“But?” Something was clearly bothering him.

“Well, perhaps I’m being presumptuous but if we keep kissing I’m fairly certain it isn’t going to stop there.”

“Probably not,” she affirmed.

"But… well, wouldn't I be taking advantage of you? Of this _need_ that you have?"

“Is that was this is about? You trying to protect my virtue?” Bethany laughed, inching closer to take his hands in hers. "Alistair, I've been camping within three feet of three other men each night for the past two months, if all I wanted was to _fill a need_ I could have done so long before now."

“It's not just that though," he protested further, "you deserve more than a quick fumble with a bastard king.”

“Then don’t make it quick,” she whispered, more seductively than she thought herself capable.

When he failed to react, she began to slowly undress under his watchful gaze, the bob of his Adam’s apple providing the much-needed encouragement not to stop at her underwear.

“Wow,” he breathed, taking in her naked form in complete awe.

“Your turn,” she gently prompted.

Alistair undressed at the same unhurried pace as she had, anticipation building as she watched the unveiling of his strong warriors body as though it were a work of art.

When he finally stepped out of his smalls her patience ended and she rushed him. He caught her in his arms, holding her tightly to him as their lips crashed together.

Bethany had been kissed before, but not like this. Alistair’s kiss consumed her; sapped her awareness of all but him; rerouted all of her senses to the electrifying touch of his skin and the sweet taste of lemonade on his tongue. 

“Maker,” he sighed when they parted for air, touching his forehead to hers, “you take my breath away.”

Bethany pecked him on the lips then lowered herself to the floor, stretching out on her back within the orange glow of the fire.

Alistair slowly knelt between her partially spread legs, hovering over her as he kissed his way up her body from her hips to her lips.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked, looking deep into her eyes.

Bethany answered with a roll of her pelvis and an encouraging squeeze of her thighs around his hips.

Alistair reached a hand between them to line himself up, mouth falling open as he sank slowly into her.

He felt even bigger inside her than she'd anticipated, the stretch from his girth stinging ever so slightly though not nearly enough to want him to stop. She gasped when he finally bottomed out, his coarse pubic hair brushing up against her incredibly sensitive mound.

"I'm not hurting you am I?"

"No," she answered immediately, taking his face in her hands and pulling him into a passionate unending kiss.

His strokes were long and firm, each one punctuated with a stimulating grind against her core as she writhed beneath him.

Alistair was a considerate and observant lover, taking his cues from the depth of her moans. He reduced the movement of his thrusts, burying himself deep as he focused on the friction between their bodies.

Bethany rolled her hips in perfect harmony with his precise movements, fingers tightly gripping his hair when she began to loudly crest.

Her toes curled and her back arched off the floor as Alistair resumed his long firm strokes, gradually picking up speed until he came to an abrupt halt. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, growling through clenched teeth with each powerful pulse of his length as he spilled inside her.

After a few blissful moments suspended in their post-coital haze, Alistair lifted himself onto his elbows.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, brushing their noses together before kissing her deeply.

Eventually, his kisses migrated towards her decolletage, freeing her lips to ask a very important question.

"Granted I'm not an expert on the subject," she tentatively inquired, "but should you still be so… _hard_?"

Alistair laughed, the warmth of his smile infectious. "I should probably tell you about Grey Warden stamina."

Their first time was sweet and gentle, everything she'd expected from such a man really, but the rest of the night was a veritable feast of new experiences ranging from basic to downright kinky.

It was hard to say goodbye the following morning, but she did so feeling lighter than she had in months. Her cravings had been tempered much more thoroughly than she could have ever hoped, and she left with an open invitation to return at her earliest opportunity. 

  
  
  



End file.
